


Save the Last Dance for Me

by yodasyoyo



Series: Tumblr fics [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bets, First Dance, Fluff, Getting Together, Jealous Derek, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, dance lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/pseuds/yodasyoyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia bets Stiles she can get Derek to dance at her wedding. Stiles will take that action. Nobody has ever seen Derek dancing, so he's gonna be fine. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save the Last Dance for Me

**Author's Note:**

> So... this ridiculousness was my contribution to Sterek Week 2015. It's shameless fluff, but some feels snuck in there anyway. It's unbetaed and not intended to be in any way serious. I hope you enjoy it :D

“But I don’t wanna!” Stiles whines.

Lydia glares at him. “What you want or don’t want is irrelevant. I booked these for the whole pack. That includes you. Are we clear?”

“But, dance lessons? Seriously? Everyone else has someone- everyone, Lydia.” She rolls her eyes, and Stiles continues, “You have Jackson, Kira and Malia are going together, Boyd and Erica, Scott and Alison are back on again. Isaac’s bringing his latest girlfriend. Seriously? Seriously? What am I gonna do? Probably get partnered up with some random sixty year old who smells of lavender, pinches my cheek and shows me photos of her grandchildren. You’re being _cruel,_ Lyds. So cruel.”

“Derek will be there too,” she says dismissively, “you could dance with him.”

Stiles snorts in frustration and looks away to hide his embarrassment, “Derek! Derek Hale? Dancing? HA! That’s what I have to say to that. HA! He’s just going to skulk in dark corners growling at anyone who comes near him. He’s not going to dance.” _Unfortunately,_ his treacherous brain adds.

“Enough. It’s _my_ wedding. I want the whole pack to be there. Nobody is going to show me up on the big day. Nobody. You are all getting dance lessons. ALL of you. Including _you_ and _Derek_.”

“Lydia,” Stiles responds solemnly, “if you can get Derek to dance at your wedding, I will eat the flower arrangements. Right there. In front of everyone.”

“If you lay one finger on those flowers I will castrate you with the wedding cake knife!” Lydia hisses, scandalized. Stiles blanches. She’d do it. She’s turned into bridezilla. His testicles are not safe.

“Okay, okay! I won’t touch the fucking flowers,” he says holding his hands up in surrender and she relents.

Lydia looks at him through narrowed eyes.“I think I can get Derek to dance,” she says finally. “More than that, I think I can get him to ask someone to dance.”

Stiles stares at her speechless. “You’ve actually gone insane,” he mumbles, “completely insane. It’s the pressure of organizing the wedding isn’t it? It’s pushed you over the edge.” He reaches out his hand to feel her forehead and she smacks it away.

“Derek will ask someone to dance at my wedding!” she snaps, “In fact, I’m so sure he will I’m willing to make a bet.”

“Heh! I’ll take that action,” Stiles says confidently. He’s more than willing to take advantage of Lydia's temporary insanity. “What are the terms?”

“If I win, you have to wear the bridesmaids dress that we bought for my cousin Lola for the last hour of the reception.”

“Sure!” Stiles says brightly. “Happy to agree and d’you know why? Because it’s _never going to happen_. Incidentally, what will cousin Lola be wearing in this extremely hypothetical situation?”

“Lola broke her leg in three places yesterday after she fell off of a horse and into a potato harvester on her farm. She’s in hospital with her leg in traction,” Lydia responds acidly, “so you don’t need to worry about it, her dress will be available for you when you lose.”

“Into a potato harvester?” Stiles says, momentarily diverted. “I don’t even really know what that is but it sounds like one helluva an accident. I think your cousin Lola might be my spirit animal. However,” he continues with mounting glee, “ _when_ you lose. I will expect you to stand up at the end of the night, and say that you bought your wedding dress off the rack.”

Lydia’s jaw drops. “That is a custom made designer gown,” she whispers in outrage. “It’s Vera Wang!”

“Well, if you’re not confident you can win, you can back out now,” he singsongs smugly.

She looks furious, “Here!” she says taking her heels off and flinging them at him. “You might want to get used to wearing these. Heels are murder if you’re not used to them.”

He catches them with a snort of laughter.

This is a sure thing.

 

o0o

 

Two days later they are all at the dance lessons, and there’s no sign of Derek. Stiles quells his disappointment, because this is confirmation, he’s totally going to win!

The pack pair off and Stiles ends up paired with a fifty-two year old divorcee called Gloria from Ohio. He treads on her feet as they dance a foxtrot and she spends the coffee break showing him photographs of her four cats, Tiberius, Jean-Luc, McCoy and Geordie. They’re actually quite cute, maybe he should consider the cat thing, seeing as on current evidence he’s probably going to die alone.

Derek finally arrives after they’ve started the lesson again. He’s looking flushed and flustered, and he spends the next hour glowering angrily in a corner, intimidating the dance instructor with the power of his eyebrows and his aura of manly solitude.

He refuses to join in at all.

He glares _alot_ , looking around the room in angry confusion, like he doesn’t quite understand what he’s doing here.

Fuck. He broods really attractively, he’s made a real art out of it. Stiles is not going to find that attractive any more. He is not.

Buuuut… he can’t help glancing over at him, even as Gloria leads him through a poor attempt at a Waltz. _Don’t get a Derek related boner when your dancing with Gloria._ He tells himself as he wills himself down from half chub. _You can’t do this, it’s weird and totally open to gross misinterpretation._

Derek seems pretty pissed off, even by the remarkably high standards he’s set for himself. He keeps frowning, and if Stiles didn’t know better, he’d say he was mainly scowling at _Gloria,_ which seems pretty random.

Maybe he has an aversion to cats. Or divorcees. Or people from Ohio. Its Derek, he’s not exactly an open book, but knowing him there’s bound to be some awful trauma buried deep in his past. Maybe a divorced Ohioan cat stole his Camaro and that’s how he ended up with the shitty Toyota. Who knows?

Stiles catches Derek’s eye and smiles tentatively, Derek’s eyes narrow and his gaze slides across to Gloria, his expression sours even further.

Gloria leans in and says in a whisper, “I don’t think your young man likes us dancing together.”

Stiles jaw drops and he wills himself not to blush. “What?- Derek?” he splutters, “we’re not together, it’s not like that… he doesn’t want to dance with anyone, especially me. I don’t even know why he’s here.”

She shoots him a sympathetic look, “Aw, don’t worry honey. He’ll come around.”

Stiles dips her awkwardly. “There’s nothing to come around too,” he says, treading on her toe, “it’s not like that between us.”

Gloria tuts sympathetically and starts talking about her cats again.

When Stiles looks back, Derek is gone and his mood sours, it turns out Derek doesn’t have the monopoly on brooding.

He rallies though, as they’re leaving the dance studio. “You see?” he says to Lydia, “I told you, he’s never going to dance with anyone. He couldn’t even bear to stay through an entire lesson.”

Lydia looks surprisingly smug, “Oh yes Stiles. I saw, I saw all of it. You better start practicing in those heels.”

 

o0o

 

The wedding day arrives a week later and Lydia looks beautiful. Like an angel. She’s every inch the strawberry blonde goddess he’s always known her to be. Jackson looks like he can’t quite believe his own luck as she walks down the aisle toward him.

Stiles looks on beatifically, keeping his eyes trained on Lydia and Jackson and willing himself not look at Derek. Derek who is standing next to him wearing a charcoal grey suit which fits just so, and a pale green tie that matches his eyes.

Like that’s allowed.

Who the _fuck_ does he think he is? Has he shaved? _Mother fucker_. He’s definitely shaved, but probably a day or so ago now, which means his stubble is at it’s optimal level of attractiveness. It probably feels amazing. Stiles manfully resists the urge to reach out and touch it, Derek probably did this deliberately, he probably knows what he’s doing to Stiles.

That stubble has been grown with malicious intent.

He will not be distracted.

He drags his attention back to the wedding, shuffling from foot to foot restlessly.

God, Derek smells good too. Is that new cologne?

He wills himself not to have an inappropriate boner at Lydia’s wedding. This stupid unrequited crush on Derek is ridiculous. He’s not going to indulge it any more. He’s just not. If anything he’s going to go to the reception, drink his body weight in alcohol and then find a willing bridesmaid or groomsman, he’s not picky, and then he’s going to get himself thoroughly laid.

Derek looks at him askance.

“ _Stand still Stiles._ ” He hisses out of the corner of his mouth, his hand reaching out to grasp Stiles arm tightly.

Stiles shudders at his touch and then glares at him. “ _Stand still Stiles_ ,” he mimics under his breath.

Derek scowls and removes his hand.

Stiles crosses his arms defensively, he can still feel the ghost of Derek’s touch burning through his suit fabric.

 _Fuck._ It’s gonna have to be a _really_ attractive groomsman.

To make things worse, when they make their way to the reception Derek and Stiles are sitting next to each other on the seating plan. Which… Stiles has seen that seating plan and he’s pretty sure he was supposed to be on a table with Scott, Alison and some of the very single bridesmaids. Derek was supposed to be with Kira, Malia and Isaac. Obviously Lydia changed it up at the last minute.

Now he and Derek are sitting on a table filled with couples. Many miscellaneous, very old, very monogamous couples. Chief among them are Lydia’s grandparents who have been married for nearly fifty years. Its a nightmare. The only saving grace is, Derek looks just as uncomfortable as Stiles about it.

Lydia’s grandmother, Irene, leans across half way through the main course and says loudly, “Don’t you two make a sweet couple! Tell me, how did you meet?”

Stiles is rendered temporarily speechless, he gapes, his eyes flicking between the kindly old lady and Derek as he prays fervently that the ground will open and swallow him whole.

“We um- we’re not…” he begins helplessly.

“He and his best friend were trespassing on my land,” Derek says cutting him off with a winning smile at Irene.

“Oh!” she falters, “sounds… interesting, so was it love at first sight?”

Stiles doesn’t know what kind of game Derek’s playing but he won’t be outdone. “Yes snookums,” he says with saccharine sweetness, putting a hand on Derek’s arm. “Tell us, was it?”

Derek glances across at him and Stiles can see the challenge in his eyes. “Well,” Derek says without missing a beat, “I saw him and I knew that I’d never feel that way about anyone else.”

“Oh!” says Irene, clasping her hands together, “how romantic! What about you?” she says nudging Stiles enthusiastically. “Did you feel the same way?”

Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek. Never let it be said that he backed down from a challenge. “I knew Derek from before that actually, he wouldn’t remember me. He was a few years above me at school and I used to have a crush on him even then, but when I saw him grumping about the woods like an old man, it brought all those old feelings rushing back.”

He doesn’t miss the way Derek’s eyes snap to his face and he realizes, belatedly, that he might have gone a little too far. After all, that is actually pretty much the truth and Derek has probably picked up on it. He takes an angry swig of wine and decides not to let it worry him. After all, Derek has to have realized by now that Stiles likes him, what with his enhanced werewolf senses, but it’s not like Stiles is ever going to _act_ on it.

“Aw! That is adorable!” squeals Irene, leaning in and pinching his cheek. “Tell me about your first date. Where did you take him?” she asks Derek, “Somewhere nice?”

Derek’s jaw works soundlessly, his gaze flickers nervously between Stiles and Irene, before settling on Irene. Stiles can’t wait to see how Derek’s going to dig himself out of this one, but he started this strange little game, so what the hell.

“Yeah sweetums,” he says, “Why don’t you tell her the story. It’s great!”

“Uh, swimming…” Derek says after a long moment, he’s exuding a strange air of vulnerability and is still unable to look at Stiles. “We went swimming together…” he’s blushing, his eyes wide as his gaze skitters across at Stiles and then back to his plate. Stiles' heart skips a beat in his chest. This is not… what is going on here?

“And you saw his hot bod, and thought RAWR, I gotta get me some of that!” Irene finishes enthusiastically.

Derek blanches and then flushes scarlet. “Uh, not quite,” he pauses, finally looking at Stiles intently, “but by the end of the evening I was pretty sure he was it for me.”

Stiles can feel his heart thumping in his chest as he holds Derek’s gaze. For one moment he can almost smell the cholorine as he thinks back to holding Derek up in the pool for two hours while the Kanima stalked round them. “Me too,” he admits hurriedly, “that um… swimming date… was pretty much a… uh, watershed moment in our relationship.”

Derek smiles at him small and relieved, then reaches his hand out and tentatively laces his fingers through Stiles.

He doesn’t let go.

 

o0o

 

Lydia and Jackson have their first dance and then Derek turns to Stiles, nods at the dance floor and says shyly, “You wanna?”

Fuck.

Fuckitty fuck.

He’s lost the bet.

He’s lost the fucking bet.

He can’t really bring himself to care though.

He nods enthusiastically as Derek takes him by the hand and leads him onto the floor. The band strikes up.

Stiles has always prided himself on his dance moves, he knows how to cut loose on the dance floor and have a good time. Surprisingly as it turns out, Derek does too. He’s shimmying and shaking and grinding and at first all Stiles can do is stand there mouths slack, eyes agog, because he can’t actually believe that this is Derek fucking Hale. Who knew? That only lasts a moment though and then he’s joining in, and they’re dance like loons. It’s the most fun he’s had in ages.

Eventually the band change it down to a slow number and Derek quirks an eyebrow and holds out his hand to Stiles. Stiles grins at him and allows himself to be reeled in, feeling the warm length of Derek’s body melding into a comforting line against his own.

As he rests his head on Derek’s shoulder, swaying to the music he sees Lydia standing with her grandmother, they’re both watching them and grinning like sharks.

“You lose sucker,” Lydia mouths and fist bumps Irene.

Fuck.

He should have known her grandmother was in on it, Lydia has to get her evil genius ways from somewhere.

He can’t bring himself to care too much. Never has a loss felt more like a win. This is the best night of his life and anyway, as it turns out, Derek quite likes him in a dress.

 

o0o

  
  
**As always kudos and comments are appreciated, concrit too if you spot any errors!**  
**If you enjoyed this then please check out my other sterek[fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/works).  
****Also check out my**[tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodas-yo-yo), where this fic was originall posted!


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